


Sole Conflict

by The_Epitome_of_Pretense



Series: The Sole Saga [20]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Conflict, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Kissing, Robot/Human Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-29 20:45:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19027606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Epitome_of_Pretense/pseuds/The_Epitome_of_Pretense
Summary: Sole and Nick have their first major couple's argument.





	Sole Conflict

Saturday night didn’t mean much in Goodneighbor. The weekends were no different than any other day now that no one worked a Monday-to-Friday job, but Sole took it as an excuse to do something fun anyway. She still had her purple sequined dress. 

Even in the stairwell, the air at the Third Rail was thick with smoke. When the sound of jazz in her ears, Sole couldn’t help but remember the first time she and Nick came here on a date. She smiled to herself. She had been in denial that it was a date—despite the fact that she had directly asked him, the fact that he had picked the venue, and the fact that he had selected a place where being seen together would be the least likely to cause a stir. She squeezed his arm closer.

“Hmm?” he said.

“Nothing,” she smiled.

The bar was more crowded than they had expected, giving the space the type of chaos that was perfect for getting lost in. Sole glanced about for a gap they could take. A less dense corner of the room caught her eye.

Nick said something she couldn’t quite hear.

“Huh?” she said. 

He leaned in closer.

“I said it’s a bit loud in here for conversation.”

His hand pressed tight on her waist. An idea struck her.

“Who says we have to talk?” she said.

“What?”

She brought her lips to his ear. 

“I said, who says we have to talk?” she whispered. 

She kissed his cheek. She drew away and nodded to the empty corner. He glanced that way, seeming to think it over. At last he smirked. He led the way, shouldering a path through the crowd. 

One man stumbled, bumping into Nick with a force that nearly threw him off balance. He helped the man steady himself. 

“You alright there pal?” Nick said. 

“Yeah, I—” the man looked him over. An edge tinted his expression. “I’m fine.”

He stepped away and brushed off his sleeve where Nick had touched him. 

Sole scowled after him. She had a mind to tell him off, but held back. No use letting one drifter ruin the evening. As far as she could tell, Nick had not noticed the gesture. She shook her head and followed him to the corner. It was quieter there, but only just so. 

“Now what were we talking about?” he said. 

She slid her arms around his neck. 

“The merits of not talking,” she said. 

“About that,” he said, casting a nervous glance around them. “I don’t really want to make a scene.”

“A scene? Sugar, we’re hardly the most interesting thing in this bar.”

“Even so, I think I’d rather keep a low profile tonight.”

She sighed and nodded, letting her hands drift down to the lapels of his coat. 

“You’re so funny,” she said. 

“How do you figure?”

“Half the time you can’t keep your hands off me, and the other half you act so shy. Why is that?”

“Well…” he thought for a moment. “Sometimes I remember how much I care for you, and I suppose it scares me. It scares me to death. I never thought I’d have anything like this again.”

“And the other times?”

He gave a little smile. 

“That’s when I remember that you like me too. Then I just can’t help myself.”

She batted her eyes and gave him a coquettish look. 

“...I don’t suppose this is one of those times, is it?”

“Might be. Later on, anyway. When there's fewer witnesses.”

“I’d love a sneak peek.”

She ran her fingers up the back of his neck. 

“Hmm… you do make a convincing argument,” he said. “Maybe a little undercover work is in order…”

He took off his hat and used it to block them from sight just long enough to place a small kiss on her lips. Though it was fleeting, there and gone, it carried a tenderness that she had grown to crave night and day. 

“Better be careful, Mr. Valentine,” she chided. “You’re gonna attract a crowd with a dish that spicy.”

“How they like the taste of disappointment. Only a table for two at this restaurant.”

He drew away, leaning against the wall, and lit a cigarette. She took up the spot beside him. Her eyes drifted over the crowd, but all she cared about was how close the detective was—until her eyes landed on the drifter from before. He shot Nick a bitter look and whispered to his shorter friend. 

“Something interesting over there?” Nick said, following her gaze. 

She took his good hand in hers. She hoped it would be enough to keep him from noticing the drifters. 

“Just wondering if we’ll bump into John tonight. I haven’t said hello to him in a while.”

“Eh, who can say. That guy’s been running all over the Commonwealth lately.”

“Why’s that?”

”I hear tell he’s got himself a gal,”

“Does he? Good for him. Maybe we should see if he wants to go on a double date one of these days.”

“That’s something I haven’t done in a couple hundred years.”

“It’s settled then. If we see him, we’ll ask him.”

“Deal.”

She squeezed his hand. She chanced another look at the two men; they had stepped closer. It was only a matter of time before Nick saw them glaring. 

She ran her fingers over the back of his hand, tracing the ridges and circling each knuckle. 

“You’re ravenous tonight, aren’t you?” he said. 

“It’s not my fault you’re such a treat. You could help my cravings, if you had a mind to.”

The beginnings of a smile crept into his features. He laced his fingers with hers, then offered her a drag. 

“Here. A little something to curb that appetite.”

“Bastard.”

He gave her a playful nudge. She returned it gladly; her plan to keep him distracted was working perfectly. 

She checked in on the drifters to find that they had drawn even closer than before. The shorter one raised his voice loud enough for them to hear. 

“Do you believe this shit right here? That thing is a waste of smokes,” he said. 

“And girls too, it looks like,” the tall one commented. 

“Yeah. Real shame when folks leave their garbage lying around.” 

Sole bristled. Nick’s hand tightened on hers. She looked to him, but his expression remained neutral, his eyes trained on the floor in front of them—a forced nonchalance. Yet she could tell the comment had cut deep; the hurt reflected in his eyes. The sight stoked the fire in her blood. 

“God, the manners of some people,” she said. 

“Some idiots, more like.”

“You’re not going to give them what for?” 

“Not this time.”

“Fine. I will.”

She pulled away from him and strode over to the drifters. He tried to hold her back, but she shook him off. 

“Are we going to have a problem?” she said. 

The tall drifter looked down his nose at her. 

“Nah,” he said with a knowing grin. “If you want to take out the trash when you could have a real man instead, it’s no business of mine.” 

Sole’s heart raced. A thrill of shock washed over her, leaving rage in its wake.

_ You don’t get to call him that _ , she thought.  _ No one gets to call him that.  _

“And what do you know about being a real man, huh? Cowering at a safe distance, hurling insults at strangers and calling yourself brave for doing so?”

Nick put a hand on her shoulder.

“Come on, Doll,” he said. “Don’t make a scene. It ain’t worth it.”

She brushed his hand away.

“Hang on sugar, I got this,” she said. She turned back to the tall drifter. “If you’ve got a problem, you say it to my face. Unless you’re scared of getting my fist in your eye.”

The drifters exchanged a suggestive look. 

“You couldn’t reach. Unless you ride that elevator up to my level,” he nodded in Nick’s direction.

Anger choked her. Her hands shook with restraint. She wanted him to say more now; let slip just enough to warrant her slapping the smug look off his face. 

No, she decided. He had said enough already. She clenched her fist. 

Before she could send it into that drifter’s scruffy jaw, Nick grabbed her arms and all but dragged her to the side. 

“I think you boys have caused enough trouble tonight,” he said. “Why don’t you scram and let us enjoy our evening?”

He took the cigarette from his lips and put it out—not by throwing it to the floor, but by pressing the smoldering end to the exposed metal on his jaw. 

The short drifter recoiled in shock, but the tall one stood his ground. People were staring now. Sole glanced around and saw, to her relief, a familiar tricorn hat. Hancock stood by the bar next to a dark-haired woman who somehow managed to be shorter than him. They both watched the situation with a mixture of suspicion and apprehension. Sole waved them over. The crowd parted for him, many guests opting to give him a wide berth. The room fell quiet. 

He tapped the tall drifter on the shoulder. 

“Something going on over here?”

The drifter didn’t look his way.

“Beat it, pipsqueak. This doesn’t concern you,” he said.

“That’s mayor pipsqueak, asshole.”

The drifter glanced down at him. He did a double take, then stepped back. 

“Mayor Hancock—I didn’t—I didn’t know it was you. I would never—”

“Sure you wouldn’t. I’ll forgive you. But ah…” he scratched his chin, “it looks to me like you’re giving my buddies a hard time. That’s not very neighborly of you.”

“I wouldn’t dream of—of—” his words sputtered into nothing.

Hancock pointed a thumb at the exit. 

“Get,” he said.

Without another word, the two drifters lit out for the door. The noise of the crowd returned in hushed tones. 

“John saves the day again,” Sole said. “Who would have guessed that being friends with the mayor had such perks?”

“I’m almost disappointed it didn’t escalate,” he said. “It’s been too long since I’ve roughed anyone up. Oh, this is Cass, by the way,” he gestured to the dark-haired woman. “Cass, Sole; Sole, Cass. And you’ve already met Nick.”

Sole shook her hand.

“How do you do,” she said.

Cass gave a warm smile.

“Nice to meet you. You’re a Vault-dweller too, right?”

“Yeah—wait, are you? Holy smokes, which Vault?” 

She turned to Nick to ask him what the odds of that were, but he had stepped away from the group and was halfway up the stairs.

“Nick?” she said.

“I’ll be back,” he called over his shoulder. His voice carried a bitter tone.

“Nick, wait—”

She bounded up the stairs after him. He had just made it to the benches out front when she caught up.

“I said I’d be back, now can you give me a minute?” he said. His voice was a low growl that had never been directed at her before. She almost drew back. 

“What’s going on with you?” she said.

“Nothing. I just want a few minutes to cool off.”

“Is it something I did, or...?” she let her voice trail away.

He shook his head. A silence grew between them. Sole debated whether or not leaving would be the best thing to do. She couldn’t bring herself to do it. 

“Don’t shut me out like this,” she said. “Please just talk to me.”

He turned to her, but refused to meet her eyes.

“Oh, now you’re in the listening mood?” he said. “You sure you wouldn’t rather get a megaphone and let all of Goodneighbor in on every personal detail of my life?”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about how you can’t just leave well enough alone. You know what happened back there? That was supposed to be our business. But then you got Hancock involved, and now the whole damn town knows.”

“What did you want me to do, just sit there and let them trash-talk you?”

“Look at me. You think synths in as bad a shape as I am are gonna get the royal treatment? Getting treated like garbage sometimes just comes with the territory. I can deal with it.”

“Stepping in at the last second isn’t ‘dealing with it.’ If I hadn’t done something, you would have let them walk all over you.”

He raised his voice. 

“Even if I do, that’s my problem, not yours.”

“If one of us has a problem—“

“Don’t start—”

“—then both of us have a problem. Or have you changed your mind about that?”

His eyes flashed to hers. Pain crossed his features. His look softened.

“Don’t joke about that. You know I’m not going anywhere,” he said. 

Guilt twisted her stomach. She wished she could go back and stop herself from saying it. 

“Okay then,” she said quietly. “I just wish you could see that when people hurt you, it hurts me too.”

He started to say something, then let it die away. He lit another cigarette.

“Listen. I’ve gotten by all these years,” he paused to take a drag, “by keeping my head down. Picking my battles. And not getting upset at every moron who’s stupid enough to think I’m an easy target.”

Sole crossed her arms. Her heart still pounded with rage at the thought of anyone saying something crossways about him. She took a breath and let it out to calm herself.

“It just makes me so angry that they could talk about you like that,” she said. “If they would open their eyes for half a minute, they’d change their minds.”

Nick shook his head.

“People will think whatever they want about me,” he said. “And as far as changing their minds goes, I’ve found that the best way to do that isn’t to tell them who I am, but to show them. The smart ones will get the picture. And as for the dumb ones… well, what do I care what they think?”

Sole couldn’t argue with that. She let her eyes rove over his form, silhouetted against the red neon. Glimpses of light showed through his damaged hand. Decades of hardship was apparent in every scar, every missing piece. He had every right to be bitter and angry. He had every right to leave those guys picking their teeth up off the floor. Yet he didn’t—in her frazzled state, that thought alone was almost enough to bring her to tears. She sighed, then stepped closer and put a hand on his arm. 

“Alright. I’ll try not to so hot-headed next time,” she said.

He shrugged, but didn’t brush her off. He let out a breath.

“Thanks,” he said. “And I’ll try not to fly off the handle again.”

“Okay.”

A moment passed. His expression lightened somewhat.

“It is kind of nice, though,” he said. 

“What is?”

“To have someone sticking up for me. It’s a welcome change, is what I’m getting at.”

Sole stepped behind him and wrapped her arms around his middle.

“I’ve got your back,” she said. “Whatever you want that to look like.”

He chuckled and laid a hand over hers. 

“That never gets old,” he said.

“What, holding you like this?”

“Having my back. Do me a favor and keep it up.”

“Whatever you say, Mr. Valentine.”

She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. Saturday night didn’t mean much in Goodneighbor. But this—being so close that she could feel the movement of his breath, hear the quiet whirring of his inner mechanisms, smell the earthy mixture of oil and cologne—that meant everything. 

**Author's Note:**

> Since every couple has their differences, I thought it would be interesting to explore what these two disagree on. More than that, I wanted to see them resolve the issue like adults. 
> 
> Also decided to have the Sole Survivor known as Cassidy make a cameo! I'm a big fan of hers :D
> 
> Side note: @commonwealthcass if you're reading this, I just wanted to let you know how much I love your comic! It was a huge inspiration for me to start the Sole Saga. Thank you <3


End file.
